


A Twist in the Threads

by TheOtherOdinson



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Gen, Post-Thor: The Dark World, disturbing subject matter, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherOdinson/pseuds/TheOtherOdinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sif and Volstagg visit the Collector to bring him the Aether, they find something they did not expect.</p><p>*On hiatus until author can free up more time to pay attention to this poor, neglected baby.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I can assure you it will be absolutely safe here in my collection."

"See that it is."

Sif turned on her heel and started away, eager to be away from the strange Collector and his even stranger collection. She and Volstagg now only needed to board a transport that would take them to the nearest location Heimdall could reach with the Bifrost. With luck she hoped to back to Asgard within a few days. She was worried for Thor and wanted to see with her own eyes he was well.

As well as he could be under the circumstances.

Thor was still recovering from his injuries resulting from his pursuit and fight with the Dark Elves. He'd been gravely injured in his battle with the Kursed One, yet still pursued Malekith to Midgard. Sif shuddered to think what could have happened if Odin had not roused from his grief and anger and gone to Midgard to aid him.

Thor would recover from his injuries. This was certain. He grew stronger as each day passed. But even as his body healed, Sif still worried for his spirit. The loss of his mother, the queen, had broken something within him, as it did his father. As long as Thor had a goal set in front of him, defeat Malekith and put a stop to his plans, he coped with his loss. Now, there was nothing to focus his attention away from his grief.

Sif found herself wishing Loki was there.

There had never been anyone more adept at distracting Thor from his troubles than his younger brother. She felt ashamed, knowing how selfish and cruel it was to wish Loki alive and thus have to suffer the loss of his mother also. Her death would have devastated Loki as much as it did Thor, but surely they would have supported each other in their grief. She'd observed few things in her life that roused Thor to action faster than the knowledge Loki needed him.

But Loki was long dead.

He died years ago after falling from the Bifrost and into the Void. Sif's mind still shied away from thinking on it overlong. Thor never spoke of what happened between him and his brother when he returned from his exile, saying of Loki's death only that he fell by accident, the result of the Bifrost explosion. As much as she never was overly fond of Thor's petty, conniving brother, the thought of his dying in such a way, lost in the Void, out of reach of his home and family still made her breathe catch in her throat.

Thor's grief had been crushing then as well. But he coped, she reminded herself. That was Thor. He always found a way to move forward.

Sif wanted to go home.

She was within steps of the doorway when something caught her attention. Along the edge of her vision, something...familiar. She turned to look.

And she stopped breathing.

She exhaled sharply only when Volstagg ran into her back.

"Oof!" he said, falling back a step. "I'm sorry, Sif. I didn't see you stop. Sif?"

In her mind she answered him. In her mind she pointed to the far wall where she was looking. In her mind she was hopping about making undignified squeaking sounds.

She said nothing. Just stared.

"Sif? What is it?"

She couldn't answer. Volstagg turned to see what held her attention. She didn't see his face, just heard his shocked intake of breath. She knew then she wasn't seeing things. Volstagg saw it too.

The realization freed her from her paralysis and she was across the cramped space in moments, pressing her hands against the case and looking at the object inside.

Loki's armour.

She searched every bit of it she could see clearly. It looked intact, save for the helm. She looked about her at the surrounding cases, in case it was here. She couldn't see it. Just the formal golden armour complete with the richly coloured green cape once worn by the second-born Prince of Asgard.

But Loki was dead. Lost in the Void.

She turned to look at Volstagg. He was at her side, looking just as intently at the armour within the case. He met her eyes with a grave expression.

"How can this be?" he asked.

There was a flurry of movement behind them and they turned as one to face the Collector -- Tivan, she remembered -- as he approached.

"I can not help but notice something has captured your eye," he said. "Ah, the Asgardian armour. Of course. A wonderful addition to my collection."

"Where did you get this?" Sif asked.

"The purpose of my collection is to gather all that is unique in the universe. The magic-infused armour of an Asgardian Prince is most certainly a treasure worthy of being collected."

"Where did you get this!" Sif shouted, taking a threatening step forward. She felt Volstagg lay a hand on her shoulder. She wasn't sure if he meant to calm her or prevent her from lunging forward and seizing Tivan by his neck.

If Tivan was concerned by her anger, he gave no sign of it. "I acquired it."

"From whom?" Volstagg asked.

"I'm afraid I cannot compromise the confidentiality of my -- urk!"

In one smooth motion Sif stepped out from under Volstagg's hand and pressed her blade against Tivan's throat. She backed him into one of his cases.

"You will make an exception," she said sweetly. "And you will tell us everything we want to know. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Of course," he tried to nod, but quickly thought better of it when her blade pressed deeper into his skin.

Sif withdrew and sheathed her blade, keeping her hand close to the hilt. She raised her eyebrows expectantly at him.

"Two years ago I was visited by a man, Asgardian. He said he heard about my collection and wanted to see if I would be interested in purchasing a new piece. I don't make a practice of purchasing my treasures, and told him so. He said, 'Not even the armour of a Prince of Asgard?'. I admit, I was intrigued. And once I saw it, I made an exception."

The Collector stepped around Sif and moved closer to the armour case. "Royal Asgardian armour. I've never had anything like it before. It's so unfortunate it's not complete. To have the helm as well, then it would be perfect."

He turned back to them. "Do you know where I might find it, per chance?"

"No," Sif said. "This man, who was he?"

"He did not give me his name."

"Did he say where he got the armour?" Volstagg asked.

"No, just that it belonged to a former prince, now dead and gone. Very sad. If only I could have had the prince in my collection -- well," Tivan cleared his throat in the face of Sif and Volstagg's glares. "Are you sure you don't know where I might find the helm?"

"Describe the man," Sif said.

"Oh, urm, let me see. He was tall. Male. Asgardian. And -- I said he was tall?"

Sif huffed impatiently. "You must remember something!"

"It was years ago, my dear. But, oh wait!" he added quickly when Sif put her hand back on her blade. "Let me check my security recordings. I keep them all, of course. One cannot be too safe. He's on them. Somewhere."

Time seemed to drag as Sif and Volstagg waited for Tivan to find the correct time frame. He searched through the museum's inventory records to locate the date the armour was added into the collection, then queued up the security recordings to match. They all watched the small screen that showed a trickle of people flowing in and out of the Collector's museum.

"There he is," Tivan said at last. He leaned forward and squinted at the screen. "Oh dear, that's not helpful at all, is it?"

Sif wanted to scream in frustration. The man who entered the shop on the screen was outfitted in a ankle-skimming cloak with the hood covering his head and obscuring his face. He carried with him only a large satchel slung across his torso. They watched on the screen as the man spoke face-to-face with Tivan for a few minutes before reaching into the bag and pulling out Loki's armour, piece by piece. The saw the man waiting while every inch of the armour was thoroughly examined by Tivan. They seemed to haggle for some time over price, but finally the deal was struck, the man was paid, and he turned to leave the shop, never revealing his features.

Sif turned again to Tivan. "Now that you've seen this again, can you remember anything else about him? Or how about anything he said."

Tivan was shaking his head when Volstagg interrupted. "Wait, wait!"

"What is it?" Sif looked back to the screen just in time to see the man leaving the museum.

"Can you go back? Go back. And watch." Volstagg pointed at the screen.

Tivan obliged. Sif watched carefully, not daring to blink lest she miss something. As the man walked through the museum to leave, Tivan's assistant crossed his path and he turned his head slightly to look at her as she walked by him.

And Sif saw him. The recorder caught only part of his profile as his hood shifted. His face was shadowed and mostly still hidden. But there was no doubt in her mind.

The man was Loki.

She looked at Volstagg and saw in his expression he saw as she did. She wondered absurdly if her face held the same flabbergasted expression as his.

"Is there anything else of which I can be assistance to you?" Tivan asked.

Sif shook her head and stepped away. As she crossed through the museum she could hear Volstagg thanking Tivan for his help and then falling into step behind her. When she was again within steps of the exit, she turned her head to get one more look at Loki's armour before leaving.

She and Volstagg walked for a time, saying nothing. They threaded their way through the bustling crowds, and around the taverns and market stalls that dotted the colony. They stopped when they reached a fairly quiet, low-travelled area.

"Heimdall," Sif spoke at last to bring about the Watchman's gaze. "Heimdall, you must take a message to Thor and the king. Tell them...tell them Loki is alive."

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: my brain doesn't quite understand the concept of a one-shot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sif and Volstagg visit the Collector to bring him the Aether, they find something they did not expect.

_2 years prior:_

  
Falling.

He hit the ground.

_(where?)_

Lay there for how long he knew not. _(hours, days, years?)_

Always falling.

_(stopped?)_

Sights, sounds, feelings, all rushed back. Senses lit up like fire.

_(pain)_

Everything too loud, bright, sharp.

_(hurts, please, it hurts)_

So much pain. There was a sound, a horrible whine that assaulted his ears. He pressed his hands over them. Felt like knives. He could still hear it.

He realized it was him making the noise. He stopped.

He shifted. He made noise. He stopped.

He breathed. He made noise. He wanted to stop.

_(not falling?)_

Sounds. Rushing at him.

_Hey! Hey, are you all right?_

Movement.

It was instinct to reach into his boot. His blade still struck true.

More sounds. Loud. ( _hurts_ )

Warm, wet. His hand washed red.

Better than blue.

_Falling. Hit the ground._

He wasn't falling. He'd stopped. Could feel the ground beneath him. He curled into himself and lay still. Quiet. Waiting. No more sounds. Just breathing.

His.

He managed to get to his feet. Tried to walk. One step, two. He stumbled over a mound, catching himself on it as he almost fell. The mound moved when he touched it, warm and sticky. Strange. He straightened up and tried another step. And another. Then another.

He walked away.

*** * * * ***

_Present:_

  


It had taken Volstagg and Sif nearly seven days to reach the Knowhere colony from Asgard. They travelled via Bifrost to a Dwaven colony on the outer reaches of the Nine, where ships were known to carry goods and people out into the galaxies. From there they booked passage on a ship that would take them to a small spaceport that functioned as a transportation junction between systems. After they reached the port, they'd spent nearly an entire day searching for transport that would take them to Knowhere. Once they found a vessel to take them they spent even more time waiting for the ship's captain to decide she had enough passengers and cargo to make the journey worth her while and depart. At the end of their seventh day of travel, they finally reached Knowhere. It was the farthest Sif had ever been from her home.

Their one stoke of luck was the willingness of the ship's captain to wait and bring them all the way back to the Dwarven colony as soon as they concluded their business with the Collector. Of course, the Asgardian gold they offered to pay to retain her services may have been a factor in her decision.

Volstagg had gone back to pay off the woman for waiting and relieve her of her obligation not long after Sif had informed Heimdall of their finding. Neither had any intention of leaving Knowhere -- and its tenuous link to Loki -- before they received some word from Asgard. Word they knew would come in some form, eventually.

They wiled away the time looking through parts of the colony to which they could gain access. The colony was large and teeming with diverse beings, most from races neither of them could recognize. Most of the mining operations and private living spaces were off-limits to them. They could, however, stand in any of the many corridors that accessed these spaces, watching and speaking to the people who flowed in and out. When there were few people to be found in the corridors, they moved into the open spaces filled with markets and taverns.

Most of the people they encountered were reluctant to speak with them, and those willing to answer questions had nothing to offer. Sif and Volstagg had no images of Loki, save the ones of him that existed in their memories. Attempts at describing him yielded them nothing but blank looks in return. They thought it unlikely Loki remained in this place after selling his armour, but searched all the same for any sign of him.

As the days passed, they grew reluctant to stray too far away from the Collector's museum for any length of time. When word came from Asgard, it would likely be directed there. Sif and Volstagg developed a system where one would set off and to explore and search in one direction, while the other remained close to the museum. When the one who set out returned after a few hours, they would switch off and the other would go forth on a different path. Their search brought nothing but frustration. The only trace of Loki they could find lay locked within a case inside a museum.

Sif's mind remained disquieted by what she'd discovered seemingly by accident.

Loki sold his armour. Loki survived falling through the Void. He survived, found his way to this strange place, and sold the armour off his back.

But he didn't return to Asgard.

She had so many questions she wished to ask him. She still, as always, had a great urge to throttle the man. But also did she want to grab hold of him and not let go until he was returned to his home and his family.

His family.

Thor, and the king as well, had endured so much over the briefest of time. She couldn't imagine how Thor and Odin would react to the news she had sent forth. Not to mention how Asgard would react to the news the king's youngest son still lived.

It tore at Sif's heart that Frigga was not there to hear it as well.

"What do you think will happen?" she asked Volstagg early in the second day. "When people find out Loki is still alive?"

Volstagg was quiet for such a long time she thought he wouldn't answer. "I think there will be many questions asked," he finally spoke. "Likely questions that will bring answers few will like hearing."

There had been, and still was, a great deal of mystery surrounding the circumstances of Loki's death, not to mention his kingship. People knew only the Jotuns had snuck into Asgard once again, this time with their king, Laufey, leading them. They knew Loki slew Laufey single-handedly in defence of Odin. For this, Loki was lauded. Relief that at long last the other Odinson proved himself worthy of his name.

But Odin's second son coming to the throne so abruptly after the crown prince's failed coronation and subsequent banishment had been puzzling to many. The rumours that swirled about Asgard in the aftermath of Loki's death were as varied as they were angry and ugly. They raged all the more as they went unchallenged by the House of Odin in those early days.

One of the more popular rumour surrounding Loki's death had the explosion of the Bifrost triggered by sabotage on the part of the Frost Giants. It fit with what people already knew of what happened, and it served to stoke anger against an ancient and hated enemy once more.

One of the worst was that Thor had killed him in fit of rage and then destroyed the Bifrost in a bid to cover up what he had done. As that particular piece of vicious gossip spread, a different story emerged seemingly in response. This one painted Loki as a lying, traitorous snake who conspired to murder both Thor and Odin in order to seize the throne. Both rumours pulled from the very worst of every story told of the brothers over their lifetimes. They also served to expose divisions in the court and amongst the citizenry that Sif had truly had not known existed until they were as glaring as the mid-day sun. While Thor remained well enough liked as Odin's heir, many began to voice their worry about his kingship without Loki to act as his advisor.

Days after Loki's funeral procession, she and the Warriors Three gathered in Thor's room to advise him of the need to respond to the rumours and questions. They had argued relentlessly in the days prior whether they should tell Thor of these things at all. However, the stories being told were growing more vicious as time went on and showed little sign of relenting.

Sif argued fiercely Thor should not be left in the dark. "These lies cannot go uncontested," she'd said. "Thor, the king and queen as well, they can put an end to this by speaking out about what happened."

"But what did happen?" went Fandral's reply.

They didn't know. They had told Thor what they suspected, about Loki letting the Jotuns into Asgard the day of his coronation, shortly after reuniting with him on Midgard. Then the Destroyer came, the return home, the rush to get Heimdall to the healers while Thor went off in search of Loki.

And then almost within the beat of a heart the Bifrost was gone and Loki was dead

Finally the men agreed with her to speak with Thor. After they had briefed him, using as little of the hurtful details as possible, Thor was quiet. He sat with his hands clasped in front of him, staring at nothing. When he spoke they'd all had to lean in to hear him.

"My friends, thank you for telling me this. I will bring up with the matter with my parents, should they wish to act. But I do not care what people are saying."

"Thor..."

"Sif, please, my brother is dead. None of it matters. Let them talk."

Thor's tone was lifeless. Sif had never heard him sound so defeated. It broke her heart.

They spoke little afterwards for days. Then came an announcement from Odin that he would hold four days of public petitions on any matter. That alone guaranteed a large attendance. With it being the first official appearance by the king since Loki's funeral, the gathering of citizens would be all the larger. People would undoubtedly flock to the palace hoping to hear Odin speak as to what had happened.

The petitions went forward. As expected, the King's Hall was packed with petitioners and spectators. Less expected was the attendance by not only the king, but the queen and crown prince as well. Two additional seats were placed on the dais, one on each side of the throne. Odin emerged with Frigga and Thor at his sides and three arranged themselves on the dais and looked out over the assembled. Odin called for the petitions to begin and took his seat without another word, Frigga and Thor followed. Strangely, they seemed to take up identical postures. Each sat forward enough in their seats to have only their elbows braced on the armrests with their forearms hanging off the ends and clearly visible to any who approached.

Sif stood nearby amongst the forward guard. She heard the whispers begin almost immediately amongst those closest enough to see the royal family clearly. She caught Thor's eye long enough to him a reassuring smile and a nod of approval.

Odin, Frigga, and Thor each wore new, highly polished vambraces over their forearms. Carved into each vambrace was the clear outline of Loki's distinctive helm. The petitions went forward as normal, four full days where the royal family of Asgard sat before their people with the memory of their fallen worn on their arms for all who came near to see.

Though the rumours and stories died down as time went on, and a sense of normalcy returned, they never truly faded. Suspicions that the truth was going unspoken remained in the years that followed. If Thor ever heard in greater detail the things being said about him and Loki, he never let on.

At the end of the third day after her declaration of Loki's survival to Heimdall, she and Volstagg were taking a break from their search of the colony and exploring a small market within sight of the museum when Volstagg elbowed her. She looked about to see what had caught his notice and saw the message from Asgard had arrived.

It was Thor.

*** * * * ***

_2 years prior:_

  


Time passed. _(hours, days, years?)_ Rushing sounds in his head. He realized it was coming from rising noise around him. _(hurts)_ He slowed, pressed his hands over his ears again. Like knives. He moved forward.

Shadows moved around. Strange shadows. They stared at him. He looked back. They hurried away.

Buzzing, he heard buzzing. ( _hurts_ ) He looked, expecting to see clouds of insects. Buzzing _(whispers?)_ all around him. He could remember a time _(was it real? or a dream?)_ when there was always buzzing around him. He ignored it. It felt familiar.

He remembered he could make the the noise stop. He knew how. He twisted his hand.

Nothing. _(hurts)_

He tried again. _(hurts)_ It still didn't work. He didn't understand.

Buzzing. He didn't like it. He kept moving. The shadows rushed past.

_Sir?_

_Is that blood?_

_(more buzzing, pain)_

_What -- careful, Rei!_

_Sir, you'll need to come with us. Sir, stop. I said, stop!_

Touching him.

His blade still struck true.

The buzzing got louder. _(screaming)_

_Screaming._

Hurt his ears. _(pain, pain, please stop)_ The shadows all melted away. _(fleeing, flee from the monster)_

All washed red.

Still better than blue.

_Falling. Hit the ground._

Quieter, but still sounds. Gurgling.

He ran.

*** * * * ***

_Present:_

  
Thor walked seemingly unhurried through the colony, but intent on moving forward. His usual long strides still crossing ground faster than most. He neither slowed nor moved aside for anyone and others hurried to step out of his path when they saw him coming. Thor was dressed not in his usual armour with its bright, red cape. Instead he was dressed almost casually, as though he were walking through the streets of Asgard rather than a foreign mining colony. He wore tall boots and a long, black leather cloak that wrapped around him, mostly obscuring what armour he did wear.

To Sif's eye he looked tired and drawn, as he had when she last saw him. If he had not completely healed from his injuries, he showed no sign of it in his ease of movement. She and Volstagg rushed forth to reach him.

He smiled when he caught sight of them. "My friends," he said when they were in reach. He hugged each of them in turn. "Thank you. For what you have learned...there are no words to express my gratitude."

Volstagg returned his smile easily. "It was luck, really. We were about to leave when Sif saw Loki's armour."

A shadow seemed to pass across Thor's features when Volstagg said Loki's name. It was so brief Sif wondered if she'd imagined it. Afterall, she was tired. She had not slept since they arrived here. Volstagg encouraged her to take her rest, but each time she closed her eyes her mind raced with the worry she would miss something of utmost importance if she slept. It was enough to keep her awake and aware.

Thor clasped the side of her neck briefly. "I am, as I have always been, grateful to call you my friend, Sif. Thank you."

She opened her mouth to return his regard and found she could not speak. She smiled instead.

"How fares your father, Thor?" Volstagg asked.

Thor paused before answering. "He is shaken by this news, as am I. But my father is strong, and a patient man. He will continue on in his duties while I search for Loki."

"You are alone, then?" Sif asked, finding her words once more. "The king did not send men to aid in a search?"

"My father believes it unlikely any of his guards will be able to find Loki if he does not wish to be found. I, on the other hand, will not stop until I bring my brother home. My father knows this. And should I find any sign Loki is being prevented from returning to us, then I will have Asgard's legions at my back."

"And we will be at your side, swords at ready, you can be sure," Sif said.

"Aye," Volstagg added. "And pity to any who dare stand in the way."

Thor ducked his head and smiled in gratitude before meeting their gazes. "Of that I have no doubt." Thor looked away, taking in his surroundings. "Now, my friends, I ask you to please take me to this man who had dealings with Loki. I would speak to him."

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for this being a one-shot! To everyone who left such lovely comments on the first chapter, sorry for trying to crush all your hopes of there being more to this story. Forgive me!


	3. Chapter 3

_2 years prior:_

  
_Running, running._

He ran and ran until he began to pant ( _hours, days, years?_ ), and then ran some more. He stopped when it hurt to draw breath ( _knives_ ). Everywhere around him was light. ( _hurts_ ) He kept moving. The shadows melted away when he passed. He found a dark space. Crawled inside. It felt real. Solid. He stayed. Curled into himself. Wanted to sleep but was afraid to close his eyes ( _falling_ ). It was quiet. No buzzing. No shadows.

He didn't mean to close his eyes, but sometimes was aware of them opening. Maybe he slept after all? He wasn't sure. He became aware of how the space smelled, musty and sour and something else...metallic? Everything around him was still. No noise. He could still hear his breathing. It didn't sound so loud anymore.

When he crawled back out some time later ( _hours, days, years?_ ) it was dark. He wandered. Little buzzing, few shadows. He felt strange, weak ( _always_ ). The pain had dulled ( _still hurts_ ). These shadows didn't mind when he joined them. He wandered past a wall that glimmered even in the dark. Saw a wretch looking back ( _monster_ ). He looked away. Continued walking with the shadows.

He needed to hide, he knew. Looking for him ( _maybe_ ). He was someone ( _once_ ).

He kept reaching for his magic. It didn't respond. Each time, another piece of him gone.

The shadows didn't mind him.

*** * * * ***

_3 days prior:_

  
Thor paused before the doors to his father's office. In truth, the summons he'd received only minutes earlier had not come as a surprise. He'd been expecting to be called before Odin at any moment since his return to Asgard several days ago. The last time he saw his father, Thor was still in a healing room, recovering from the injuries he received from his battles with Kurse and Malekith. He'd tried to explain then that while he was sorry for going behind Odin's back in leaving Asgard with Jane and the Aether, he did not regret doing what he believed was right.

Odin had cut off his explanation, saying only, "We'll discuss this another time." He'd given Thor an inscrutable look before walking away. Thor watched his father go without a word.

Now the moment had come. Thor gathered himself, preparing to be calm and explain his actions the best he was able. He'd spent the last few days helping as much as he was able to clean up and repair some of the damage done in Malekith's attack on his home. Seeing the ugly evidence left behind by that attack in the form of ruined buildings and heart-broken people only strengthened his belief he'd taken the right course of action in leading the Dark Elves away from Asgard before they could inflict more damage and death. He'd relied heavily on his friends to provide enough distractions in order for him to sneak out to the Bifrost with Jane. Heimdall's willingness to commit treason against Odin by sending them to Svartalfheim was a debt he wasn't sure he would ever be able to repay.

But it had been worth it. Thor stopped Malekith, even if in the end he did need his father's help.

If his father chose to punish him for his disobedience, then so be it. Though it pained his heart more than he could say to be at odds with his father, especially now that Odin was all the family he had left. It had seemed strange, fighting at his father's side. It was something Thor had always longed for in his youth, to march off to war together with his father. As it turned out, it had not been the glorious battle he'd always dreamed it would be.

Thor had taken the worst beating of his life at the hands of Kurse on Svartalfheim before he finally defeated him. The beating had left him in less than top form when he and Jane finally made it to Midgard and Thor was able to confront Malekith and the remainder of his soldiers. Jane and her friends had tried to aid him, but Malekith was powerful and there were many innocent people in harm's way Thor was intent on shielding.

For a brief time, Thor despaired he'd gambled all their lives away in his defiance of Odin's order to hold fast in Asgard. And then in a brilliant blast of light from the Bifrost, Odin Allfather set foot on Midgard for the first time in a thousand years. His father barely took in his surroundings before he levelled Gungnir at Malekith and blew him across the pavement and into a nearby building. Odin helped Thor to his feet without a word, his touch flooding Thor with renewed vigour and strength. Together they made quick work of destroying Malekith and his men, putting an end to the threat to the realms. Thor had barely the time to say farewell to Jane before Odin took hold of his arm once more and summoned the Bifrost to carry them home.

Thor knocked. The door swung open. He took a bracing breath, straightened up, and stepped inside. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it surely had not been the sight of his father pacing back and forth across the floor, anguish plain to see on his face. With a wave of Odin's hand, the door shut behind Thor.

"Father," Thor was hesitant, worried that he was the cause of his father's agitation.

The sound of Thor's voice seemed to startle Odin out of his pacing. He stood breathlessly still for a moment, staring at Thor with a look he could not put a name to. Odin suddenly seemed frail to him and it struck Thor like a blow more painful than any he received at the hands of Kurse just how wrong that was. "Frail" and "Odin" were words that did not seem right together. Thor was about to ask his father if he was well when the old man crossed the floor between them in the blink of an eye and gripped Thor tightly by his shoulders.

"Father?"

"He's alive, Thor. Loki. He lives."

*** * * * ***

  
Thor had undertaken many journeys in his life. Some had been planned out well in advance, others were spur of the moment. Contrary to what some believed, he never went forth without a plan in mind, no matter how ill-advised ( _reckless, arrogant_ ) his broth...others may have found it. Thor always had a plan. Until now.

Thor moved without thought as he swept through his quarters, changing his clothing and packing. He could not remember the walk here from his father's study after they'd spoken briefly. It seemed almost in the time it took to enter his rooms he was leaving them again, moving swiftly through the corridors on his way out of the palace.

"Thor."

Thor stopped at the sound of Odin's voice and waited as his father stepped out of the shadow of one of the pillars lining one of the entrances to their home.

"Before you leave, you should... Take this with you."

Thor looked at the small, round device his father was holding out for a confused moment until comprehension dawned. It was a skyn. A portable device roughly the size an overlarge egg, but flatter and more oval-shaped. It was technology developed by the Aesir that was not as widely used on Asgard as it was on other realms. His mortal friends may mistakenly liken their function to one of their hand-held computers. Thor did not often see them, save in the hands of those who travelled widely and frequently.

"You will be far from home. I am sure you will manage," Odin said, his voice slow and tentative. "Heimdall will keep an eye on you. As will I. Nonetheless, you may find it useful."

Thor accepted the skyn, it fit well in the palm of his hand. He tucked it carefully away in the bag he had slung across his body and concealed under his heavy, leather cape. "Thank you, Father. I will keep it close at hand."

Odin nodded. "Good, good."

Thor was anxious to continue, but could not stand to leave things as they were between them. "Father, I want you to know I am sorry for how things stand between us," he chose his words carefully. "I know my recent actions angered you and I am sorry. Not for the actions I took, for I do not regret them, but for disappointing you. I do not want for there to be discord between us. Not now. Not with everything that has happened. I hope you will one day forgive me my actions."

Thor kept his gaze steady on Odin's face as his father took in his words. Odin reached out to squeeze Thor's shoulder, then wrapped his hand around the back of Thor's neck.

"I could not have asked for a better son. It is I who should apologize for disappointing you. I fear my greatest regret in life lies in that my boys did not have a better father."

Odin paused, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Thor wanted to reassure his father he had nothing to apologize for when Odin squeezed his neck and continued speaking.

"Thor, find Loki. Find him. And tell him...tell that I..."

Thor wrapped his hand around Odin's wrist and held firm. "You will tell him yourself. After I bring him home."

Odin nodded once and stepped away. Thor let him go. Thor closed his fist over his heart and bowed his head.

"Go, my son."

Thor stood tall as he walked out of Asgard's great palace.

He did not to look back.

*** * * * ***

_2 years prior:_

  
Loki walked.

The shadows ebbed and flowed around him. None came close.

He walked and walked. When the shadows great thicker and louder he changed direction. Kept walking ( _where?_ ).

_Hey, mister. Got any units?_

Loki stopped. There was a small shadow in his path. It was looking at him ( _why?_ ). He tried to move around it. The shadow followed. He stopped again ( _go away, little one, go away_ ).

_Mister, you don't look good. And you kinda smell._

Loki blinked.

The little shadow hovered around him for a time ( _moments? perhaps_ ) before it began to drift away.

_You shouldn't be walking around like that. Squads are patrolling._

Loki tilted his head ( _what?_ ).

_You don't got any units. Don't let them touch you._

Loki flinched.

The little shadow melted away.

He kept walking.

*** * * * ***

_3 days prior:_

  
"Thor! Thor, for Norn's sake, slow down!"

Thor slowed just long enough for Fandral to catch up and fall into step alongside him as Thor made his way along the Bifrost. He left his horse with a guard by the gate to the bridge, opting to walk the bridge to the observatory. He'd hoped the walk would serve to soothe his crowded thoughts and expel the tension he felt building in his muscles before he left Asgard.

He was still waiting.

He eyed Fandral without pausing in his stride. His friend was carrying two satchels slung over his shoulders and wearing his best travelling cape.

"No," Thor said.

"What, no?"

"No, you're not coming with me."

"What?" Fandral protested. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course, I'm going."

Thor stopped and turned to face him. "How did you even know?"

Fandral scoffed. "Have you forgotten who now serves as Heimdall's messenger?"

Thor winced, casting his eyes down briefly. In truth, he had forgotten. Though Thor had not yet been called before the king to answer for his actions during the crisis with the Dark Elves, his friends had been. His father had been creative with his punishments. Volstagg and Sif faced being sent on errands as far away from Asgard as Odin could send them for the forseeable future. Fandral, on the other hand, was assigned the task of standing post all day every day in the Bifrost's observatory on the off-chance Heimdall needed someone to bring a message to the king.

Thor still wasn't sure for whom it was meant as greater punishment - Fandral or Heimdall.

"Loki is alive." It was the first time Thor said the words aloud. He'd been turning them over and over in his mind since leaving his father, trying to make sense of them. They sounded strange to his ears.

Fandral's answering smile was somber. "Yes. And I'm going with you to find him."

Thor shook his head. "Fandral, no, you cannot come with me. My friend, please!" he raised his voice as Fandral made a noise of protest. Thor stopped and gripped the other man's shoulder. "I do not know how long I'll be gone. Or where this path will take me."

"All the more reason your friends should be at your side," Fandral objected. "Surely we'll find Loki all the quicker, the more eyes that search."

Thor did not agree, but kept that opinion to himself. "If I must leave Asgard, it will bring comfort to me to know my friends are keeping watch over our home. And my father. I know he is strong and he will endure, but it still pains me to leave him here alone. I fear his grief over my mother is still too fresh and I worry for him. I know it's wrong of me to make such a request, but I would ask you to keep watch over him, as best as you are able."

Fandral groaned and dropped both his bags on the bridge with a thump. "Well that is just unfair. When did you become such a master of manipulation?"

Thor smiled ruefully.

"Very well," Fandral sighed, resigned to his fate. "I will do as you ask. Though I suspect very strongly any attempts I make at minding your father will only result in all my furnishings and personal belongings being packed and relocated to the observatory with the gate to the city being closed to me. Permanently."

Thor nodded with all seriousness. "Perhaps Heimdall might enjoy sitting comfortably in one of your chairs while he keeps watch."

Fandral made an indignant noise before dragging Thor into one of his usual affectionate, back-slapping hugs. "Very well. Go. I will mind the realm, and your father, while you fetch that pain in the arse brother of yours and bring him home." Fandral paused. "Good luck, Thor. I hope you find Loki soon."

"Thank you," Thor said sincerely. "Thank you."

*** * * * ***

_Present:_

  
Thor stepped though the entrance of the museum, pausing just long enough to get his bearings. Sif and Volstagg waited outside at his request. They'd told him everything they could about their meeting with the man known as the Collector, as well as what they'd learned in the days they spent exploring the colony. He knew they'd been reluctant to leave his side, but abided by his wish to speak to this man privately.

Spying Loki's armour where Sif told him it was on display, Thor headed straight for it. He passed by Tivan's assistant and she may have spoken to him, but Thor was not listening. At that moment he was oblivious to everything expect the display. He stood before it, eyes drinking in every inch he could see. The armour was in fine shape, well maintained. The helm was missing, of course. Loki hadn't been wearing it when he fell. It had blown off in the Bifrost explosion. It, too, lost in the Void.

Thor had not known what to expect when he finally saw the evidence his brother survived his fall. He'd known for days Loki lived, but for all his haste in travelling to this place it had not felt real to him. Until now. His heart felt strangely light, yet heavy at the same time. In a moment of clarity he understood the look his father wore when he saw him in his study days past - hope, mingled with despair.

Loki was alive. And yet he hadn't come home.

Even with all that had occurred, Thor still didn't understand why. Asgard was Loki's home. They were his family. If he were able, why wouldn't he return to them?

Thor heard the man, Taneleer Tivan as he called himself, approaching him from behind. Thor kept his back to him, not looking away from Loki's armour.

"Ah, another Asgardian. Welcome to my establishment."

Thor felt the man slide into the space at his side and fold himself into a bow. Thor still did not look at him as Tivan straightened and waited to see if he would be acknowledged. He wasn't. Tivan turned to stand at Thor's side and face the armour case as well.

"Such a popular piece as of late. I assume you are here with your fellows from the court of the great king, Odin Allfather?"

Thor did not react.

Neither did Tivan. He continued speaking as though they were conversing. "Your people are unlooked for in this region of space. But Asgardians are always welcome here. How delightful I've had the pleasure of so many coming through my doors as of late."

Thor supposed he wasn't meant to pick up on the undertone of sarcasm in the Collector's mild tone. But then again, he did grow up with a brother whose ability to inject varying levels of sarcasm in any otherwise inoffensive statement was a skill of legend.

"I wonder, may I expect more of your people?"

"You may expect my father, Odin himself, if I am not given the information I seek, Collector," Thor finally turned to face the man. Thor met and held his gaze, daring him to look away. Tivan's face betrayed no surprise at Thor's words, save a minute clenching of his jaw. Anyone else may have missed it.

Thor was not anyone else.

Tivan held Thor's eyes for an unblinking moment before he bowed again. "Prince Thor, I presume. Welcome to Knowhere. How may I be of humble service to Asgard?"

"You may begin by telling me everything you know about the man who sold you this armour."

"Prince Thor, as I have already told your countrymen, it was years ago. Surely you can understand I remember very little of him."

Thor smiled coolly and stepped deliberately into Tivan's space. "A man walked through your doors two years ago, carrying with him the formal armour of the second son of Odin. My brother's armour. You recognized the man as Asgardian. You recognized the armour as genuine and intriguing enough to purchase for your collection. Surely _you_ can understand I find it difficult to believe you remember so little."

Tivan held his ground. "I am truly sorry I cannot be of greater assistance."

Thor took another step forward. "You will be truly sorrier still if my father chooses to leave Asgard and come here to question you himself, I assure you."

Tivan twitched.

Thor leaned further into his space. He was not that much taller than the other man, but he was bigger. Thor had been accused of bullying others to get his own way in the past. He could not deny there was some measure of truth in that. He liked to believe he'd grown beyond such things. Thor felt no qualms about employing such tactics now as he loomed over the other man.

"We know who you are, Taneleer Tivan. We seek no quarrel with you." Thor lowered his voice, a whisper of menace threading through his tone. "But make no mistake - either I leave this place with the answers I seek, or my father will. The choice is yours. I suggest you make it quickly."

  



	4. Chapter 4

_2 years prior:_

  


Loki wandered without thought, following where his feet chose to lead him. ( _keep moving, don't stop_ )

As he drifted along ( _hours, days, years? - no, not years_ ), Loki slowly began to register his surroundings. Haphazard blocks of small, low-rise buildings stretched all around him. The shadows grew thicker, gained form.  Many still melted away quickly as he went by. Others seemed to stutter to a halt all around him. He could feel eyes on him.

_Keep moving, don't stop._

Most paid him no mind. He decided he liked that best.

He caught sight of his reflection more and more as he walked. It was no wonder the shadows kept their distance. _(wise)_ He bowed his head and kept his eyes on the ground. Loki wove his way aimlessly around the buildings. Put space between himself and the shadows. 

In time he could hear the rush of water in the distance. He looked and saw an open field far ahead. He started toward it. 

Away from the buildings, there were no more shadows. When he reached the field it was nothing extraordinary. Full of tall grasses and weeds. Dotted with clusters of bright, golden flowers. The sweet smell hit him like a blow to his face. An elbow to the nose. _(that hurt)_ He stopped by the first patch of flowers, just breathed the scent. Nothing ever smelled so sweet, so pure in an age. ( _hugged him so fiercely, looked at him like a saviour)_

_Not a monster. (no?)_

Loki worked his way through the field, stopping at one little patch of flowers, then another.  Breathed the sweet air.  The ground became rocky underfoot, more uneven as he reached the edge of the murky, roaring river.

He didn't pause. He walked right in.

*** * * * ***

_Present:_

  


Thor waited with an air of outward patience as Tivan pulled up the records of his dealings with Loki. The man had said nothing in response to Thor's cool request to see these things, simply retreating to a console with a wave of his hand that Thor took to mean he should follow. Thor did follow, slowly, taking the opportunity to examine his surrounding in greater detail. During his travel to Knowhere, Thor made use of the skyn his father had given him to read up on Taneleer Tivan. He knew the man to be an ancient being from a race none could remember much of. He was answerable to no one and intended his collection as a means of reseeding the universe in the event of its destruction.

Those had been among the milder details Thor had read.

Though Thor understood Tivan collected living things - including beings - it was still disconcerting to see them inside the displays. He saw the Krylorian woman, the Dark Elf, the Jotun, among others. Wondered at what sort of dark sorcery kept them all alive in these tiny spaces. How long had they been there? Did the Dark Elf know he was likely the last of his kind? That his home had been reduced to wasteland? Did the Frost Giant?

Thor paused when he neared the Jotun, adjusting his stance and looking up to better see him. The Jotun paid him no attention, seemingly uninterested in what went on around him. Thor wondered if the giant had been alive during the last war. Would he react to the name Odin? Or Odinson - either or them?

Thor's guts twisted at the notion it could easily have been his brother trapped inside one of these cages, even as his mind rejected the thought. Loki would never have allowed himself to be imprisoned so. For surely even if he were captured, between his sharp mind and his magic he would find a way to outwit his captors.

_Are you sure of that?_

Tivan cleared his throat. "When you are ready."

Grateful to be spared further dwelling on the idea of his little brother in a cage, Thor swept across the floor to stand at Tivan's side. At Thor's nod, Tivan started the recording. Thor watched without comment as Loki entered the museum, bartered away the armour their father had gifted him, and leave.

"Again," he said when the recording ended. Tivan replayed it.

Thor remained silent as he studied the images before him. Though he tried to hide his form, Loki moved with his normal confidence with no sign of injury. His smooth, measured bearing looked the same as it always did. Though he could only see a hint of Loki's features for the smallest moment, Thor thought he looked well. He was mostly sure he wasn't imagining it. Even as relief flooded through him at seeing Loki alive and well, if only in a recording, Thor felt even more disheartened. Loki had been here. Alive and well.

But why here? Why here and not Asgard?

_Brother, what were you doing? Where are you?_

Thor turned his attention to another screen on the console, this one filled with strange notations and symbols he'd ignored in favour of watching the recorded images of Loki first. He read what little he could, the Allspeak failing to decipher too much of the Collector's personal record-keeping for Thor's liking. Thor poked at the screen to page through more records, making note of the more commonly used symbols and annotations that didn't translate. "This is your record of purchase, yes?"

"It is. Every item in my collection is recorded with the date of acquisition, detailed information, summary of origin, and the like. Sometimes personal observations, if relevant." If Tivan was bothered by Thor's scrolling through his records, he made no mention.

"And my brother's armour?" Thor asked as he returned the screen to that record, reviewing it again and committing it to memory.

"I've listed the individual pieces with accompanied images as you can see. The exact date. The age of the armour, its origin,  special features. And the price paid. Of course." Tivan answered easily.

"How much did you pay for it?"

"It is listed right there in front of you."

"I asked a question."

Tivan huffed in annoyance. "250,000 units."

That did translate. Loki would have left this place with the means to go wherever - do whatever - he pleased.

_Except return home._

"I would have paid much more had it been intact. Shame about the helm." Tivan paused. "By any chance, would you..."

Thor glared at him.

"Well, no matter," Tivan finished smoothly.

"I would know everything about the man who brought you my brother's armour."

"Prince Thor, with respect, it is as I told your countrymen. It was two years ago. I remember little."

Thor tipped the sides of his mouth up in an unfriendly smile. "But what are two years in the lives of men like us? I remember much from two years ago. Two centuries even. And you, you who records every detail of everyone who comes and goes, I suspect you're very much the same. You're not the kind who forget things. You make a point of it."

Tivan returned Thor's smile with a tight one of his own. "As you no doubt saw for yourself, the man was not here long. We spoke little. He only came to sell the armour."

"Did he say where he got it?"

"Not that I recall or made mention of in my record."

"Did he say what happened to the prince who wore it?"

"Only that he died."

"I see." Thor's gaze drifted back to the display that held Loki's armour. He could see only part of the cape from where he stood. He didn't need to see it to remember ever detail. He saw it for years at every formal occasion, every feast, every affair that demanded the Princes of Asgard be present.

He saw it every night when he closed his eyes.

_Falling._

"I am sorry I cannot tell you more. I'm afraid my dealings with him were quite limited." 

Tivan's voice pulled Thor's attention back to him. Thor nodded his understanding.

Tivan smiled again, a little friendlier. "I expect you'll be departing Knowhere soon? It would be my honour to escort you to your transport. Whenever you are ready." He moved away from the console as he half-bowed while making a gesture at the doorway.

"I am not leaving."

Tivan stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"

Thor widened his stance as he held his ground. "You yourself may have personally had limited contact with this man. But he arrived here. He departed from here. I would know how. I would know how long he was here. Where he went. What he did. Who he spoke to."

Tivan straightened carefully. His mouth twisted in a manner reminiscent of a child who bit into something sour when they expected a sweet. He cleared his throat. "You may find that a daunting task, I'm afraid. People who come to Knowhere are not generally known for their great spirits of cooperation."

"Yes, I expected as much. It is fortunate indeed that the man who founded and oversees this colony is here to aid me. Who here would dare to refuse to share information with you?" Thor's smile was as bright as it was insincere.

Tivan's mouth twisted again.

*** * * * ***

_2 years prior:_

  


The fast moving water pushed and shoved at Loki as he waded in deeper and further. It did not feel as cold as it looked as it seeped into his clothes, yanked at his cape, tried to pull him down. He kept his feet under him and moved deeper still. The water swept up around his shoulders. Caressed his chin. Touched his lips. Loki kept his mouth firmly closed. He took a deep, bracing breath, exhaling it slowly. He closed his eyes and moved forward until the water covered his head.

Then he stopped. Loki kept his feet planted as the current ripped at him, trying to force his surrender to its might. He refused to yield. His arms were pushed up. Muscles straining, he held them straight out at his sides, refusing to yield further. Palms turned against the current as though he could hold it back, force it to his will. The water continued its assault on him.

Loki wondered, if he lifted his feet and let the water take him - would it feel like falling?

_No._

The thought jolted him into motion. Carefully, he moved one step back. Then another. And another. He forced his arms back down. His head rose above the surface. He breathed.

_Breathe._

He picked his way back to the shoreline, collapsing when the water lapped at his knees. Loki crawled the last few feet. Every part of him weighed down with water and something deeper. He was so tired.

_Rest._

He crawled on his hands and knees until he was far enough from the water to lay on his stomach in the tall grass. There were things he should do - remove his boots, his cape, his armour. Strip down until he was comfortable enough to wait until his things dried.

He didn't move. He just lay there.

_Breathe._

He moved his head just enough to escape a small, sharp rock digging into his jaw. Saw a patch of the cheerful, little golden flowers nearby. He smiled as the breeze carried the scent over to him. He reached out a hand to touch one.

Ice spread from the edge of the petal he touched, blanketing over every other petal, and starting down its stem. Loki jerked his hand back _(monster)_ even as the frozen flower snapped under its own weight and fell into the grass beside him.

Loki clenched his hands in fists and pulled them in beneath him. His face turned into the ground as one sob broke free, followed by another. He curled into himself as he wept

All around him was the scent of the golden flowers.

  



End file.
